


Lone Stars Collide

by Jascel



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Crush, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pining, Stargazing, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jascel/pseuds/Jascel
Summary: Craig Tucker just wanted to walk the cute guy from the library home and maybe try to get to know him a little better as well. He doesn’t expect Tweek Tweak,actual literal embodiment of the ‘fight me’ meme, to turn around and accuse him of being a serial killer.Against all odds, adorkable sweetness ensues.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 20
Kudos: 173





	Lone Stars Collide

**Author's Note:**

> This work is dedicated to [Chan_redd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chan_redd/pseuds/Chan_redd)... Thank you for all of your support and input, babe.

Craig jerks awake with a sudden start, his head pulsating with sharp, biting pain that confuses him for a moment. _Why was he horizontal? Why did his head hurt so badly?_ He winces, lifting a hand to rub at his aching temple and blearily blinks his eyes until his surroundings slowly come back into focus.

When rows of shelves filled with books come into his line of vision, he realizes he's in the campus library and is seated at one of the group study tables, apparently having fallen asleep and hit his head in the process. He groans as he stretches his limbs and straightens up, earning an unpleasant, hissed " _Shush!_ " from somewhere behind him. Craig turns to see the head-librarian, a formidable woman in her late fifties, seated at the check-out hub and keeping her beady, watchful eyes on all of the people who deigned to step foot into her precious library.

While her reaction isn't an unsurprising response to any kind of disruptive noise made in the library, he still struggles to not give in to the petty impulse to flip her off. The reflex was something he'd been trying to curb since graduating from high school, but sometimes the urge was a little too strong to ignore.

Craig yawns, wiping a hand tiredly across his face and then slowly began to skim his eyes over the unfinished assignment that's open on his laptop. His grimaces when he takes notice of the meagre word count and several paragraphs of uninterpretable random key-smashes he's managed to rack up in the last five hours he's been attempting to work on the blasted thing. Unfortunately, looking away from the screen leads him to once again focus on the attractive blonde who's seated at the next study table over.

He mutters an explicative under his breath as his face begins to heat up again. He's deeply disturbed that he's let some guy with a cute upturned nose, freckles and messy hair distract him from his college work. Throughout the course of the evening, he's written only a third of what he should have, having spent the majority of his time in the library stealing glances of the blonde over his laptop.

Craig prides himself in _not_ being the type of guy who got butterflies in his stomach or became flustered and speechless when he catches a glimpse of an attractive person. And yet, here he is, a dumbstruck idiot with his heart beating a thousand miles a minute and a stomach full of raging, panicked butterflies. He didn't like it one bit. _Why couldn’t the guy study in some other section of the library? This place is huge!_

Craig sighs, conveniently ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that was berating him for not doing the very same thing if this person was _soooo_ distracting. He decides to just give the night up as a bad job and glances at his digital watch, observing that it's nearly approaching midnight. He knows if he wants any hope of waking up early to finish this wretched assignment in front of him, he needs to get a least a few hours of decent sleep. He gently closes his laptop and places it into the backpack next to his chair. Sneaking another glance at the blonde's table he notices that the guy hasn't moved at all. Craig frowns. Didn't he know that the library was about to close in ten minutes?

He's seen enough horror films where unsuspecting librarians accidentally lock students in libraries overnight, resulting in them getting grotesquely butchered and murdered by some sex-crazed, revenge-obsessed, axe-wielding murderer. He considers it his civic duty to get up and make sure that doesn't happen to the blonde. It _obviously_ wasn't because this gave him a plausible excuse to talk to the person he's been blatantly ogling for the past week and a half he's been working in the library.

After hesitating for a few more seconds Craig finally builds up enough courage to leave his seat and go over to inform him. Taking a deep breath - _that does nothing whatsoever to settle his nerves -_ he rises from his chair, slings his backpack over his shoulder and begins to make his way over to where the guy is seated.

Half-way there he pauses his steps at the dawning realisation that he doesn't have a clue how he should go about getting this guy's attention without being creepy or making a fool of himself. Craig had witnessed some poor sod tap the guy's shoulder while he'd been waiting in line to register his course majors and the blonde had completely flipped out - wrestling the person to the ground in a chokehold in less than twenty seconds. Craig doesn't want to risk a reaction like that. He preferred having full autonomy over his body - _thank you very much._

Craig settles on just standing stiffly by the side of the guy's desk and hopes that he will eventually notice him. When he doesn't acknowledge his presence, Craig awkwardly clears his throat. "Um, excuse me?"

The blonde gives a full-bodied shiver, jerking the leg of the table with his knee, causing his silver thermos and a heap of precariously stacked textbooks to fly across the wooden table.

"Shit," Craig says, quickly reaching his hand out to stop the thermos from falling to the carpeted floor and spilling its contents. Man, this guy was jittery as hell. Almost as jittery as his pet guinea pig, Stripe #3. Maybe he could call him ‘Stripe #4’ in his head until he learned his actual name. Especially since ‘the-reason-I’m-probably-going-to-fail-my-class-as-this-assignment-actually-carries-a-large-percentage-of-my-final-grade’ was a bit of a mouthful.

"I'm sorry," he begins to apologise, "I didn't mean to-uh, startle you or whatever."

"It's fi-fine. What-" Stripe #4 turns to face Craig with large, brilliant blue eyes, "what do you want?"

"The library's gonna close in a few minutes," Craig replies, nervously brushing his right hand against the short hair at the back of his head. _God_ , he seriously needed to invest in a back-up chullo hat. His is currently drenched in Red-bull - _don't ask_ \- and buried under a swamp of dirty clothes at the bottom of his laundry hamper. He frowns, feeling weirdly vulnerable without it.

"So," he continues, trying to sound smooth and unaffected, "we, uh- we better leave or something before security comes over here and physically kicks our asses out."

" _Gah!_ " Stripe #4 loudly exclaims with a panicked look on his face. "I didn't, I didn't know it was so, _ngh_ , late."

Craig's just about to respond with a sarcastic ' _no shit_ ' when the head-librarian abruptly storms over to them to silence them both. He rolls his eyes in annoyance once she's finished shrilly yelling her fill and silently proceeds to help Stripe #4 with packing away his few scattered textbooks, a note pad, pencils and several highlighters that were littered around the guy's table.

When they finally finish up and Stripe #4's messenger bag is buckled closed and securely placed on his right shoulder, Craig jerks his head in the direction of the library exist and says, "Come on." The guy shakily nods his head and follows Craig out.

' _Okay,_ ' Craig thinks to himself as they both walk out into the open night, ' _you've finally made a move... An awkward move, but a move nonetheless. So, all you have to do is act naturally. Be normal. Do what normal people do in these kinds of situations... What do normal people do again?_ ''

Not for the first time that night, Craig wishes he was wearing his beloved chullo. Pulling on the hat's yellow strings always managed to soothe Craig's frazzled nerves - _he had to stop himself from reaching up to yank on the absent cords._ Unfortunately, his aborted hand gesture catches the guy’s attention and he shoots Craig a strange, curious look.

' _Oh no, he thinks you're weird. Nice going, asshole. Think, man! Think! So, normal... What was normal? Space? Guinea pigs? Red Racer?'_ Craig shakes his head, belatedly realising he's kind of only ever cared about those three things. This whole interacting with other people his age at college was proving somewhat difficult. ' _Hmm... Small talk? Make small talk? Yeah, that's it. God, anything to stop the flustered, swooping sensation in his stomach every time he so much as looked at Stripe #4._

"So, uh, where do you stay?" Craig tries to nonchalantly ask, attempting to shut down his internal panicked monologue.

"No offence, man," Stripe #4 squints up at him and runs a shaking hand through his tangled locks. "But how do I know you're not a serial killer or something? You pr-probably want to know where I, _ngh_ , live so you can sneak in later and murder me in my sleep!"

"Jesus Christ, dude. What? I'm not a fucking serial killer," Craig yells exasperatedly.

"Pr-prove it," Stripe #4 shoots back, the guarded look in his eyes tells Craig that one wrong move will cause the blonde to bolt.

"Goddammit," Craig grumbles, throwing his hands up in frustration. "How am I supposed to do that? Look, would it make you feel better if I show you my student identification card?"

The guy doesn't hesitate for even a second - an emotionless 'yes' is his reply.

Craig rolls his eyes again and swings his backpack to his front so that he can easily access the small, discreet pocket inside the front that stores his identification card and his house keys. Craig hands the card over. "See? I'm a student. Just like you," Craig watches as Stripe #4 looks it over and then performs a not-so-subtle sweep of the rest of the contents of his open backpack. Craig must pass his weird inspection test because he hands Craig's card back to him with a small smile on his face.

"Satisfied?" Craig asks, which receives a quick nod in response. "So... Are you going to answer my question or not?"

" _What?_ Oh, I stay in - _ack_ \- Summer Village."

"Cool, that's close to me." A lie. "I'll walk you home," he says, trying to ignore the pounding beat of his heart. Why did it feel like he's asking this guy on a date?

"N-no," Stripe #4 shakes his head frantically. "You don't have to. _Really_. I can walk by myself, man."

"It's on my way,” Craig rushes to say - _another lie_. It wasn't on his way. Like, _at all_. Craig lived in off-campus housing in the complete opposite direction from Stripe #4's dorm, but he wasn't going to let the twitchy little blonde in on that piece of information.

" _Fine,_ " Stripe #4 grinds out with a resigned look before turning his face away to search for what Craig thinks might be the path that leads down to the Summer Village dorms. His hunch is confirmed, when the guy steps in the direction of a heavily lit walkway.

"Let's go then," Stripe #4 throws over his shoulder, "but if you try any- _anything_ , I won't _, ngh_ , I won't hesitate to kick your skinny ass."

"Duly noted," Craig replies as he not so subtly scrambles to join him by his side. 

"So, uh, what are you studying?" he winces at the question even as it tumbles out of his mouth. _Fuck_ , what a cliché thing for him to ask. It's almost always the first thing that anyone asks him since he began his college classes and Craig kind of really fucking hates it. Weren't there better things to talk about?

Craig makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat and nearly trips over his feet when he receives the response of 'Theatre Studies and Dance'. He can't stop himself from letting his eyes wander over the guy's admittedly shapely look legs. "You dance?" he chokes out.

"Yeah," Stripe #4's eyes narrow with thinly veiled suspicion, "what's it to you?"

Craig quickly holds his palms up in a placating gesture. "Nothing, dude. I didn't mean anything," he smirks, trying to appear more confident than he feels, "Maybe I'll swing by your campus some time and check out one your shows or whatever. You have those, right?"

Stripe #4 doesn’t reply, but Craig spots a light smattering of pink covering his freckled cheeks.

Interesting _._

 _Very_ interesting.

"What about you?"

"Huh?" Craig croaks, brought out of his thoughts by the question.

Stripe #4 snorts, an amused smile quickly spreading across his face, "What are _you_ studying?"

"Oh," Craig flushes with embarrassment at being caught in his head. "Uh, astrophysics."

"That's, _ngh_ , like astrology, right? Horoscopes and stuff?"

Craig scowls, wondering if he is being serious or if the blonde is legitimately just messing with him. He can't tell, so resorts to thinking it's the latter. "Fuck you, asshole. I can't believe-"

" _Oh- oh my god!_ " Stripe #4 interrupts him, barely able to stifle the laughter that is now bubbling out of his throat. "I'm just- uh, just fucking with you man. I know it's, _Jesus_ , the study of stars and other celestial bodies. I'm not," he exhales happily, " _Fuck_ , I'm not an idiot."

Craig visibly relaxes, shoulders tensed in defence of his chosen field of study dropping in relief. He's undoubtedly a little embarrassed for hastily jumping to conclusions, but also secretly pleased that the guy he has a maybe-not-so-small crush on isn't a complete moron.

"S-so," Stripe #4 continues, "You must be real smart, huh?"

"Nah," Craig replies sheepishly, "I just really like space. I... er, I do know quite a few constellations offhand though. I very nerdily used to stargaze a lot as a kid."

"Yeah?" Stripe #4 slows his steps, turning to face Craig with a rather hopeful expression on his face. "Can you p-point any of them out to me?"

"Sure." Craig stops, looking up at the night sky to orient himself. "One of the easiest constellations to spot in the northern hemisphere is, um," he pauses, not believing what he is about to say so he quickly utters it under his breath, " _Draco."_

"Oh, like Draco Malfoy? The dude from Harry Potter?" Stripe #4 remarks from beside him. He had also stopped to search the skies despite seemingly not knowing what he is looking for judging by the way his face is adorably screwed up in concentration.

"Yeah," Craig answers, a faint smile curling at the corners of his broad mouth. "It's also circumpolar, which means it never sets and can be seen all year round... _There!_ " he yells, pointing his index finger up in triumph at the group of stars that made up the dragon-shaped constellation. "Can you see it?"

"N-no," Stripe #4 whispers.

Before Craig even thinks about what he's doing, his right hand gently wraps around the blonde's trembling left and slowly traces out the constellation. He briefly glances down, watching as Stripe #4's soft face lights up with wonder, the twinkling stars of the clear night sky reflected in his brilliant blue eyes. The beautiful sight causes Craig to release a quiet gasp - anything he may want to say is caught in his throat and overshadowed by the sudden, surging return of those damnable butterflies, now fluttering around his ribcage with vengeance.

_Oh._

Craig is in trouble.

He swallows nervously.

 _Deep_ trouble. 

After another moment of contemplating what exactly he should do about this alarming realisation, Craig snaps back into reality - 'oh, there goes gravity' - and notices that Stripe #4 is no longer looking up at the night sky. Instead, his focus has shifted to staring up at Craig with the same awed expression in his eyes. Craig involuntarily shivers, not being able to comprehend why anyone would or could look at him like that. The sudden movement makes them both realise how truly close their bodies are and they quickly break apart, mumbling a quick 'sorry' to each other before they continue to walk in silence for a while.

It wasn't an awkward silence per se, more of a 'something kind of special happened back there and I'm lame and in my twenties, so I don't know how to properly deal with human interaction or know what I should say to you' kind of silence.

A silence which is broken by Stripe #4 exclaiming that they had finally reached their destination. Craig was so dazed after, _well - that moment_ , he hadn't realised that they were fast approaching the entrance to Summer Village. Their steps slow and come to a stop just outside the twin main doors of the residential building.

Craig blinks, sucks in a shaky breath and turns to face Stripe #4.

"I, uh, guess this is goodbye then?" he says, trying not to make it sound too obvious that he's a little disappointed that their trip together had come to an end. 

"Yeah," Stripe #4 nods, bringing both hands up to nervously fidget with the strap of his messenger bag.

"Um, okay. Bye then," Craig replies, offering the guy an awkward wave and turning to walk away. If it isn't clear already, Craig isn't exactly the peak of a well-adjusted, socially adept human being.

"Wait!" Stripe #4 yells after him, stopping Craig in his tracks. He twists his body around just in time to catch the blonde frantically searching through his messenger bag. He pulls out what looks like a bright pink leaflet and a pen, quickly scribbling something down on one of the corners. He walks up to Craig and sharply thrusts the bit of paper into Craig's left hand.

"We- we have an upcoming recital, you know, if you- you were actually, _ngh,_ se-serious about you said earlier," Stripe #4 explains. 

"Oh," Craig stares down at what he can now make out is an event programme. Next to what he thinks is a name - _'Tweek' -_ is a cell phone number, the words 'text me if you need directions' and a winking, smiley face drawn in dark blue ink.

Craig's eyes dart up to seek Stripe- no, _Tweek_ out, but the guy has already disappeared inside. 

"Tweek," Craig says the name out loud, loving the way it feels on his tongue as he smiles up at the twinkling stars. Maybe he actually has a chance with this guy.

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I'm just here to create vibes. 
> 
> Awkward human-being Craigory Tucker is my favourite and the more I write for this fandom the more it becomes important to me, lol. I'd love to at some point write a follow-up chapter where Craig actually goes to see Tweek perform because it’s just too much of a good visual to pass up, am I right? 
> 
> Comments and kudos are highly appreciated, please let me know how I'm doing!


End file.
